Just Keep Smiling
by MarvelMistress7
Summary: 'The cuts that decorated her body were proof of her depression. The stories and poems were proof of her obsession and now the man standing before her was proof that she had lost all control, lost all her sanity and reason but she didn't give a fuck' The Joker has a divoted fan.


The cuts that decorated her body were proof of her depression. The stories and poems were proof of her obsession and now the man standing before her was proof that she had lost all control, lost all her sanity and reason but she didn't give a fuck.

The ever present voices in her head waged a harsh and bloody war now inside her head. One side screaming at her that this was wrong that she should turn and run but the other, louder, more appealing voice cut like a knife into her soul. _This is your one chance,_ it said, _stop being the coward everyone knows you are and do something about that miserable piece of shit you call yourself! _

She knew the voice was right. It always was. She was worthless, ugly, stupid, cowardly and so fucked up not even Arkham's finest could fix her. Oh they tried, they really did but the more they tried the more she imagined them hanging from a rope with their damn pens through their heart and always constant folders and clip boards shoved down there throats. She imagined laughing as they gurgled and drowned in their own blood. It gave her a shiver of pleasure to think of their torture and she hated it.

She hated that pain caused her pleasure. That the scares on her body that had started out as self-hate had turned in to a rush of pleasure. Around the time it turned into pleasure was around the same time _he_ first appeared on the six o'clock news. First robbing mob banks, then killings, lots of killings (the commissioner and that judged being two main bomb shells). He killed the district attorneys girlfriend and burnt Harvey Dents face half the hell.

He was a God in her eyes. She soooo wanted to be like him but had none of the confidence to hold herself with the power he did. Every time the news would come on in the rec room in Arkham she would watch it intently waiting for, wanting, craving just even a glimpse of him. She would concoct stories in her head of meeting him, in some he would fall for her as she did him and he would give her what she so craved. However in others she would beg him to end her, to be able to have her pathetic life ended by the only person in the world she felt any kind of connection to.

The day he was captured and brought to Arkham was a day she would never forget. They dragged him down the hall in hand cuffs, his purple coat having been removed so he was only in his button up shirt and suspenders. He face paint had been smudged and bled into his skin making it look as if it were his real appearance. Her was laughing and making jokes as he was manhandled down the hall. She knew he would pass by her cell and she stood at the plexi glass with bated breath waiting. Pass by he did as she knew he would but she didn't expect the wink and smirk he threw her way as he was pushed into the cell just next to hers.

For countless days she would lay on her cot and strain her ears to listen to him breath, cough, laugh, anything. She would fall asleep to the sound of his giggles at she did not know but it kept her at piece.

It was on the 12th night he was at Arkham that he made his escape. Blowing up the east side of the building and releasing all the patience as a distraction. She saw her opportunity and took it moving out of her cell quickly and finding herself face to chest with her obsession.

"Well hell-o there doll face," he said grabbing her arm with a twisted smile, "Wha**t** on earth is a pretty little thing like yourself doing in a place like this?" he asked with a cocked head. She couldn't answer, her mouth just wouldn't work. Looking up into those beautiful hazel eyes full of blood lust and insanity she finely felt right and she knew what she wanted.

"I asked you a **question**," he said harshly his grip on her tightening. All around them there was so much chaos and blood shed as patents killed doctors and guards killed patents but for her if finally felt like home.

"I killed my family last year," she replied with no remorse in her voice, "I gutted all of them; my mother, father, two sisters and my cousin. I burnt the house down afterwards. The cops found me an hour later in an ally. I was still laughing,"

He looked deep into her eyes to see if she was lying but she was completely honest, "Do you, uh, **regret **it?" he asked licking his scars.

"No," she didn't feel like she had to say anything else he would understand and by the look in his eyes he did.

"But you still wanna die," he said. It was a statement not a question. She nodded as a shiver went down her spine. He saw right throw her. She looked up into his eyes trying to convey her plead without having to voice it. He understood right away.

Pulling her even closer he pulled a knife out of seemingly nowhere and pressed it into her cheek, "Wanna know how I got these scars?" he didn't wait for a reply, "You see back when I was a boy only about sixteen I had this girlfriend. Beautiful, just like you. She always seemed so happy telling me that I should laugh and smile more. What I didn't know was behind closed doors her Daddy was using her as a whore and a punching bag. She would come to school with bruises and cuts blaming it on her clumsiness. Soon it got to be too much for her, years of abuse and do that to a person, and she took a blade to her wrist and cut all the way up her are to her elbow. She died of blood lose in tem minuets. The cops found a note with her body addressed to me. It said that she would miss me but she had to do this and that she loved me. The last line on the page told me to keep on smiling. I broke, lost my mind. She was my everything and she was gone. So I took her last words of advice and did this," he moved his head back and forth so she could see every inch of his scars, "Now im always smiling, now im always happy," he paused and looked deep into her eyes, "do you want a smile?" he asked.

She gave only a slight nod as answer. Tears now flowing down her face he stuck the blade in her mouth. Cutting both sides of her face into a Cheshire grin. Blood poured down her face but she gave no reaction but those silent tears.

"Just remember these words of advice," he whispered in her ear as he pressed the blade to her throat, "Just. Keep. Smiling," she felt the pressure of the blade, hot liquid seep into her shirt but she just kept staring into his eyes. Before the darkness took over her world she saw his ever present smile fade slightly and then no more voices or pain just nothing.

The Joker lay the dead girl down on the cold linoleum floor of the Arkham hall. Blood ran from her throat and cheeks. The Joker had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. The girl who he guessed was only in her late teens had already been the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. With her black as night hair and piercing green eyes but now with a twisted grin on her face and a choker of blood against a red and white background that was slowly turning redder, he was amazed and the feelings that he was feeling. Sure he was still enjoying her death as she bled out but he also felt a slight twinge of remorse. The girl was obviously somewhat like him, they would have made a good team.

The Joker just sighed and shrugged his shoulders. With one last look at the girl he turned and made his way out of Arkham. He had a bat that needed his full attention.


End file.
